


Sometimes The Truth Is Like A Second Chance

by ineffablefool



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: (nobody outright says the Three Words but they both know what they mean), (not a plot point but this is a Crowley POV, (not heavy but possibly not light either so let's go Medium), (the angst is a little breezy and silly), Angst, Asexual Relationship, Chubby Aziraphale (Good Omens), Humor, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Love Confessions, Miscommunication, No Sex, No Smut, Other, Pining, Romance, What else is new, but i have very little patience for 'supposed to's re what counts as an attractive physical trait, fight me, i just had a conversation with someone on the importance of Crowley Holding Aziraphale's Waist, like bushels of it, lil bit of ableist language because... well... both of them this time, lil bit of swearing because Crowley, so guess what suckers in my stories Crowley loves all of those things about Aziraphale, so he won't let you forget how lovely and round his angel is), well it just so happens there is some Waist-Holding here, you're not '''supposed''' to like large bellies or double chins or things like that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 16:50:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20745524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineffablefool/pseuds/ineffablefool
Summary: Crowley shifted the phone to his other ear. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds great, angel.  See you then.”Say it, say it,say it...“I love you.”There was a pause, which Crowley’s heart decided to fill by slamming against the rest of his organs.“Crowley,” Aziraphale gasped. “Did you just say...?”(Crowley tells Aziraphale, over the phone, that he loves him.  Then he panics and tries to claim that it was just force of habit from his saying it to his boyfriend.  At which point he's stuck with a made-up boyfriend.  Probably there's no way out of this predicament.)





	Sometimes The Truth Is Like A Second Chance

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! For repeat visitors to the Soft Zone(TM), welcome back, and I apologize for the skip week last week. I also apologize that I won't be posting The Shore Leave One today, as I hinted at doing on my Tumblr -- it's still not finished! So instead of established-relationship fluff, today is some more Eventually-Resolved Pining. I hope you still enjoy it.
> 
> For new readers, welcome for the first time!! It's lovely to have you! I hope you enjoy fiction with an asexual and fat-positive lens, because that is all I write.
> 
> This story is based on [this Tumblr post](https://sleepymccoy.tumblr.com/post/187075652409/crowley-accidentally-saying-i-love-you-as-he). I tweaked the setup just a tad, though, because I can.
> 
> I'm writing for the TV characterization, but I've decided that my written Aziraphale's body is shaped like how Tumblr user speremint draws him (([1](https://speremint.tumblr.com/post/186342035100/i-did-this-instead-of-my-hw-ya-girl-is-gonna)) ([2 from her Reversed Omens AU](https://speremint.tumblr.com/post/186574829700/finally-finally-done-making-these-refs-my)) ([dotstronaut also draws a gorgeous Aziraphale with a lovely round face](https://dotstronaut.tumblr.com/post/186740069618/no-really-i-dont-think-you-all-understand-how))), because I much prefer to imagine that as I work. Please also imagine that as you read!
> 
> Title is from "[After All](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9QU8AN8CNl8)" by Dar Williams. I listened to this song a lot back when I was Young and In Love.

_Okay. Going to say it this time. Definitely going to say it. Say it, say it, **say it**..._

“...absolutely marvelous!”, Aziraphale exclaimed, and Crowley realized he’d lost the thread of their conversation. “I think even you might appreciate their manti. Perhaps we might get lunch there tomorrow?”

Okay, lunch plans. Back on track. Crowley shifted the phone to his other ear. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds great, angel. Noonish?”

“Noon it is!” Aziraphale sounded so excited to have plans together, just like he always did now that the whole end-of-the-world business was over, and Crowley pictured the angel’s round face lit up in one of those radiant smiles of his. He wanted that to be Aziraphale’s reaction when he said... what he was absolutely about to say. Which it absolutely would be. Assuming Crowley hadn’t read things _completely_ wrong.

“Wonderful. Then I’ll see you tomorrow, Crowley!”

“See you then.” _Say ittt —_ “I love you.”

There was a pause, which Crowley’s heart decided to fill by slamming against the rest of his organs.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale gasped, and he did not sound like he was smiling at all. He sounded shocked, in fact. Appalled. Probably a lot of fancy other words that Crowley didn’t know, he wasn’t the one with the vocabulary, that was Aziraphale, and Aziraphale was —

Was clearing his throat. “Did you just say...?”

_Okay, mistake. Extreme mistake. Just tell him you’re_ —

“Sorry!” Crowley’s fingers clenched around his phone with an ominous creak. “Was, uh. Force of habit!”

_...what?_

“What?”

“Yeah, I’m... just used to saying it!” _What?_ “To my boyfriend!” _What??_

This time the pause was even longer. Crowley was pretty sure his spleen was getting bruised.

“I see.” Aziraphale’s voice sounded extremely calm. “Well. If you’re sure you’re still... still available tomorrow...”

“Yes! Available, yes! Absolutely, looking forward to it. Lunch. At the... place.”

Aziraphale made a little _hmm_ noise. “All right. Goodbye, Crowley.”

“Y-yeah. Bye.”

_Fuck._

* * *

Crowley thought it would be awkward, picking Aziraphale up after that big of a screwup. And it was — it was extremely awkward, in fact — but not for the reason he’d expected.

Aziraphale climbed into the Bentley just like usual, making a show of snapping the seatbelt around his distractingly soft middle to protect himself against the dangers to come. He mixed pleasant conversation with complaints about Crowley’s driving as they sped toward whatever this restaurant was that Crowley’d agreed to. Once there — okay, Turkish food, good to know — they’d sat down and discussed the menu, and Aziraphale had convinced him to order some manti which he was pretty sure the angel was just planning to eat himself once Crowley lost interest in it. (As if Crowley would care if Aziraphale just ordered it himself from the start. As if Crowley wouldn’t buy Aziraphale one of everything on the menu, if that was what made him happy.)

Everything was so bloody _normal_. Maybe it’d been a dream?

“So,” Aziraphale said, finally, as Crowley pushed over the last nine-tenths of his food. “You have a... boyfriend, is it?”

Not a dream. Okay. The best way out of this would probably be to —

“Boyfriend! Yes! Definitely one of those!”

_Oh, you **idiot**._

“Just recently. Nice guy. Well — well not _nice_, nice is a four-letter word, but you know what I mean. Yeah! Hey, do you need a refill? Let me get the waiter for a refill.”

Aziraphale looked at him with those pretty blue eyes of his, and Crowley felt the chatter dry up.

“I had no idea you were... seeing anyone. What is the fellow’s name? What’s he like?”

Details. About the imaginary boyfriend. Right. What would be appropriate things to say about someone he supposedly loved?

“His name is. L... eo? He’s a...” Crowley’s eyes skittered around the room, out the window, and latched onto the sign of the pub across the street. “Bartender! Yes.”

Crowley gave Aziraphale a careful look from behind the glasses. He looked interested. Like he wanted to know more about his friend’s new squeeze. Like he didn’t mind at all that Crowley was now supposedly taken.

Like Crowley had _severely_ miscalculated when he’d assumed anything had changed post-notpocalypse.

Fuck.

Well, fine. If Aziraphale didn’t love him, then at least Crowley wouldn’t hurt his feelings by inventing the best boyfriend ever.

_Fuck_.

“He’s, uh. Really clever, for starters. Brilliant. Kind of an idiot too. I don’t know how that works, but it does.”

Aziraphale had the gall to nod encouragingly.

“And he’s an adorable bastard when he wants to be.” The words were coming a little easier now. Not like he didn’t know exactly what his type was, right? Started with an “A”, ended with a “ziraphale”, and oh, had Crowley ever had time to think about how to describe him. “He likes to pretend he isn’t, but he knows better. I can tell. And it’s adorable. Did I say that already? Probably. _And_.” He took a swig of his coffee. “And he’s bloody gorgeous. Absolutely stunning, I can’t stand it some days, the way he smiles and the way his stupid hair glows in the stupid sun, and he’s so —”

He stopped. His arms were held out in a wide circle, trying to describe the incredible round _plentitude_ of the only body he’d ever wanted to hold in six thousand years.

“Well. Um. He’s just amazing, is all.”

Aziraphale smiled, and Crowley was definitely only imagining that he saw disappointment mixed in. “I’m so happy for you, Crowley. I suppose there’s more room for... personal attachments, now that we’re somewhat unemployed."

_Plenty of room. Exactly enough room for all of you, angel, right here, only you don’t bloody **want** it..._

“Yeah.” Crowley sighed. “Yeah, that’s what I figured.”

* * *

The problem with Leo was that Crowley couldn’t keep track of him.

Sure, he was brilliant, and a great conversationalist, and so gloriously beyond plump that he was pretty much the human-shaped personification of cuddling. All his best traits were inherited from Aziraphale. But he also had the extremely unfortunate trait of not actually existing, which meant that A) Crowley was spending precisely zero percent of his time cuddling that beyond-plumpness; and B) Crowley couldn’t remember anything non-Aziraphale-based that he’d actually _said_ about the guy.

“How is your relationship getting on?” They were taking one of their walks through the park, Aziraphale sort of giving him little looks the whole time, like he was worried. “It doesn’t seem as though the two of you see much of each other. Is everything all right?”

“Great,” said Crowley, “yeah, great, superb. Leo’s just real busy at the office lately. Human business. You know how it is.”

Aziraphale frowned. “I thought he worked as a bartender.”

_Wait. Did he?_ “Night job! He’s a very hard worker. Works a lot.”

“Seems rather unfortunate.” Aziraphale looked down at the pavement, soft chin folding so prettily that it deserved to be immortalized in a bloody museum. “One should be able to spend time with the person one loves.”

“I _am_,” Crowley replied. Still on autopilot from that chin. Then, as the panic hit: “Spending time with him! ‘S what I meant. Going to a. Concert. Tomorrow night. Terribly modern bebop, you’d hate it. Big fan of bebop, my Leo.”

Aziraphale gave him another look, but not a worried one. Crowley almost wanted to pretend it was sad. Except Aziraphale’s happiness was the most important thing on the planet, so it was actually a good thing that he had no reason to be sad about Crowley’s bebop-loving boyfriend whatsoever.

“Is he? That’s splendid. I know there’s a number of your interests that I don’t share, and... I’m really very pleased you’ve found someone else who does.” Aziraphale smiled, but it didn’t get much past his mouth. “That you aren’t confined to merely our... friendship.”

It really, really felt like there was something else Aziraphale wasn’t saying. Something that made Crowley almost positive he’d heard a pause between those last two words. Except there couldn’t be. He’d literally confessed his love to Aziraphale, for hell’s sake! Aziraphale had responded with shock, and they were very obviously not currently holding each other close enough to share a lung or three, so it bloody well hadn’t been the good kind of shock! There was no way he was jealous of Crowley’s stupid made-up boyfriend, and the only one Crowley was hurting with all this nonsense was himself.

“Well, uh, err.” _Oh, genius with words, you are._ “Yeah, it’s all right. You know, he likes, uh. Bebop and driving fast and gluing coins to the sidewalk to trick greedy idiots.”

Another smile flickered across Aziraphale’s face — barely there, but it went farther than the last one did. “Crowley, I thought you _stopped_ doing that...”

“But yeah, confined? Who’s confined? ‘M having the time of my life! You ought to get a boyfriend yourself!”

_No he shouldn’t! Well, yes, he should, and it should be you, but you took yourself off the market, didn’t you, you absolute ninny?!_

No smiles at all now. “I appreciate the advice.”

The rest of the walk was horrible and awkward, and as soon as Crowley got home, he napped for four days.

* * *

There was a message on the answering machine when he got up. Just one. He didn’t even listen to the whole thing before grabbing his sunglasses and all-out running for the Bentley.

It was from Aziraphale, and it started with a perfectly pleasant “hello” before devolving into some nonsense about how maybe it was wise of Crowley to stop coming by so much the last few days, what with his having a young man now and all.

Which, _no_. If there was one thing Crowley didn’t intend to start being now, it was _wise_. So: sunglasses. Bentley. Setting a new personal best on the way over to Soho.

He slammed the shop door open hard enough to rattle the neighbors’ windows, but he couldn’t even imagine caring about that. An irritated “What in the —” off to the right somewhere told him where Aziraphale was. There was the gentle thud of a book being set down, then footsteps. Crowley stormed around the corner of a shelf just in time to almost run the angel down. Had to grab him to keep him from going over backwards.

They stared at each other for a while.

“Angel,” Crowley stated.

“Yes,” Aziraphale agreed.

He was still holding Aziraphale’s arms. Should he stop doing that now? Maybe? “Gyeh. Angel. _Aziraphale_, I...”

Aziraphale found his voice first, of course. “Didn’t you get my message? I thought that you and Leo —”

“Auugh, forget about bloody Leo!”

That earned him a funny look. Aziraphale didn’t pull away, though. His arms were maybe a little tense under Crowley’s hands, but he wasn’t pulling away.

“Look. Lemme start over here. The — the person I love, he really is great, okay? He’s practically the only one on this whole stupid planet I can actually _talk_ to. And he’s so, so clever. I could’ve loved him just for what a clever bastard idiot he is, I think. Already enough right there.”

“Please, Crowley.” Aziraphale had stopped looking at him, and now he took a step back as well. Slipped from Crowley’s grasp. “I don’t understand why I need to hear this.”

“Wait till I _finish_,” Crowley groaned. “Because he’s also just _beautiful_. I wish you could see the thing y — _his_ eyes do when he’s happy. They just about glow. Some days I think I’d do absolutely anything to be able to see it.”

Crowley pulled his sunglasses off. What would they do for him now? Hide all the feelings he was letting drop from his mouth anyway?

“He’s so soft. I see him and I just want to hold him. I mean, half the time he’s got his arms full of stupid books, and it’d be rude to take them and shove them on the wrong shelf somewhere and then just grab him and squeeze and maybe never let go. But I still want to.” He shook his head. “Jealous of books. This is where my life is now.”

Aziraphale gave him a sidelong little glance. Brow furrowed, but was there maybe the tiniest understanding in his face? “I wasn’t aware your fellow enjoyed books.” Another quick glance. “I do recall you mentioning all the rest, though.”

“Yeah, I gave you the extremely short version of how amazing and hot he is, but I’d need about a week to say it all. Except when I tried to start — we were making _lunch plans_, Aziraphale, it was practically a _date_ — he acted like I’d called Charles Dickens a hack.”

Aziraphale was definitely looking at him now.

“Angel,” Crowley sighed. “There isn’t any bloody _Leo_. There’s just you.”

It was miserable. Aziraphale just stared at him, all plump blushing cheeks and wide eyes and mouth quivering, not saying anything. Not laughing at him or shouting at him or... whatever kind of rejection it was going to be. Crowley wished they could just get to it already.

“Oh,” Aziraphale said, finally. “Oh, you meant it.”

He looked at Crowley, and his eyes... his eyes were doing the thing.

Sparkling. Almost glowing.

_Wait. That would mean..._

“I was... surprised, on the phone.” Aziraphale’s voice was soft and careful. “I thought I’d misheard. And then, well.”

“And then I was an idiot.” Crowley took a step.

“You rather were.”

“But. I mean. I could say it again.” One more step, and now they were practically touching. “So this time you’d know.”

“I suppose you can tell me all about your beau again, too?” Aziraphale reached out, actually _reached out a hand_ to rest on Crowley’s arm, which did something really interesting to his brain for a second.

“Glrjk. I could. Could talk about how good he looks. All soft and round. Perfect size for holding, I think. ‘M pretty sure.” When Aziraphale’s other hand came up to rest against his cheek, Crowley could only manage the rest in a kind of wheeze. “Never gotten to try.”

Aziraphale’s thumb stroked along his jaw. “He’d very much like you to try.”

Crowley made a helpless sound in his throat.

His angel, it turned out, was _exactly_ the right size to be held. Crowley fitted his arms around the broad waist, feeling all that soft belly press against him. Perfect. There was so much of Aziraphale, but by Somebody, what an absolutely perfect amount.

Aziraphale’s own arms (heavy, and also soft, everything about him was soft, it was incredible) linked around Crowley’s neck. “You _did_ mean it, didn’t you.”

“More’n anything.”

The sigh he could feel work its way up from Aziraphale’s belly was almost enough to knock him over. “Good Lord. You really are an idiot.”

“Yeah,” Crowley said. He laughed, and squeezed a little tighter, feeling something suddenly get in both his eyes right about the same time as Aziraphale was nestling that beautiful curly head under his chin. “Yeah.”

“You know,” Aziraphale said, “I seem to have also just recently found myself with a... oh, ‘boyfriend’ seems such a human term, but... with someone whom I love very, very much.”

“Whom you — right.” Crowley was starting to feel a little light-headed, what with his arms absolutely full up with angel. What with that angel’s voice thrumming through his chest and shaking his heart to puddled goo. “Have you now.”

“He’s a wily sort of fellow, I’m afraid. More clever than he really gives himself credit for. And kind.”

“Hey,” Crowley mumbled.

“Oh yes. He’s always been so kind to me, and I absolutely will not hear otherwise.”

Aziraphale pulled his arms back from around Crowley’s neck, drawing away a little. Crowley’s throat tightened, and he definitely didn’t have to swallow a whimper before realizing that Aziraphale wasn’t going anywhere. Soft hands now rested against Crowley’s chest; the most adorable face in the world was now turned up to his. Those shining blue eyes took care of the last bit of his heart still not melted down into mush.

“And for all that he’s evil and dastardly, he’s still just a little bit good. Just enough.”

Crowley scoffed, sort of. It didn’t sound quite right when he was smiling like this. “Sounds boring. Pretty as you are, and you settle for that? Now _that’s_ a sin, angel.”

All the laughter went out of him when Aziraphale’s fingertips brushed his lips.

“I’m not settling for you, Crowley.” Pretense completely dropped. “You’re wonderful.” Then, eyes cutting away as a delicate blush spread over his face: “And _terribly_ handsome.”

Several dozen responses to that all clanged together in Crowley’s head. Smugly agree? No. Accept the compliment politely? God and Satan both, no. Laugh, maybe. Cry. Just faint right there, leaving Aziraphale to catch him before he landed on his arse.

“Hglk.”

Sure. That.

“Would you please kiss me?”, Aziraphale asked, and Crowley actually did think he might faint.

There was a dismayed little sound from Aziraphale. Ethereal power blipped across Crowley’s senses, and then they were in the back room. Aziraphale gently peeled Crowley’s arms from around his waist, which was rude, incredibly rude, Crowley had only just gotten to finally hold him not five minutes ago and figured another few weeks might be just about enough; but then he was sitting Crowley down on the sofa, settling next to him, close enough that Crowley could reclaim his rightful place. There. Arms around all the breathtaking expanse of his angel, cuddled up against his chest. Time to not move for a month.

Aziraphale’s fingers whispered through his hair. “Better?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about. ‘M perfectly fine.”

“Of course.” A tender scratching at Crowley’s scalp that made him shiver. “My relentless adversary.”

Several minutes passed before it occurred to Crowley that there was one thing which _might_ be worth letting go of Aziraphale. Since Aziraphale had brought it up, and all. Might as well give it a try. “Yes, incidentally.”

“Hmm?”

Crowley retrieved his arms, and yeah, that part was awful. But then he was free to cradle Aziraphale’s face in his hands. He stroked his thumbs along the rounded jawline, and felt the gooey remains of his heart do something weird and fluttery as the angel tipped his head into the caress.

“Yes,” he said, leaning in closer, guiding them gently together. Aziraphale looked confused for a moment, but then understanding flashed across his eyes a moment before they drifted closed. Crowley closed his, too. Concentrated on what he could feel — the warm softness of Aziraphale’s body next to his, and the warm softness of Aziraphale’s skin under his hands. 

The warm softness of Aziraphale’s breath on his face.

“Answer to your question,” he mumbled against Aziraphale’s lips. “‘S yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you were thinking of leaving a comment, please know that I treasure every single one, whether it's a single emoticon, a copy-pasted line, a keysmash, an entire novel of feelings, or whatever. (Even after a story's been online for a while and already has comments! I like to know that my babies are still loved!) I've literally cried a few times reading some of the lovely things people have said in comments, and they really are fuel for my soft little heart -- but never, ever required, so please don't feel pressured. Just know that if you're ever questioning whether it would bother or annoy me for you to comment or otherwise reach out, _no oh goodness no it will never bother me it will absolutely do the opposite of that_.
> 
> If you want to say hi on Tumblr, I'm [ineffablefool](https://ineffablefool.tumblr.com) there, too. The last sentence of the previous paragraph applies here as well. 
> 
> I would never actively request art from anyone I wasn't paying, but if you, the human reading this, were to decide it was worth your time to create fanart based on any of my stories, I would be incredibly honored ([and would love to enshrine it forever on my Tumblr](https://ineffablefool.tumblr.com/tagged/ineffablefool-gets-fanart-from-lovely-people))! I have only one requirement: please don't draw Aziraphale any thinner than the size I headcanon (I need both my soft cuddly daydreams, and my positive fat representation). Here are some examples of what that sort of minimum body size/shape might look like: ([speremint 1](https://speremint.tumblr.com/post/186342035100/i-did-this-instead-of-my-hw-ya-girl-is-gonna)) ([speremint 2 from her Reversed Omens AU](https://speremint.tumblr.com/post/186574829700/finally-finally-done-making-these-refs-my)) ([dotstronaut](https://dotstronaut.tumblr.com/post/186740069618/no-really-i-dont-think-you-all-understand-how)) Otherwise, the characters can look however you like!
> 
> (If you say something nice about one of my stories and I recognize you as an artist who does commissions, there is a chance I will ask to give you an amount of money of your choosing to draw your favorite bit of the story you complimented. Just a little warning.) 
> 
> I hope you're having a fantastic day.


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